


Beauty and the Boss

by lollyxbeans



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Beauty and the Beast Elements, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-21
Updated: 2017-08-21
Packaged: 2018-12-18 08:05:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11870109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lollyxbeans/pseuds/lollyxbeans
Summary: Seto Kaiba is known to be Domino City's harshest employer. Draconian in reputation and temper, Natalie had no aspirations to work for the duelling titan - but when her father's debts threatened to drown them both, she found she had no choice but desperation. Now, she finds herself trapped as his personal assistant, elbows deep in an industry she's never cared about and the secrets of a man who holds her life in his hands. There's more to Seto Kaiba than meets the eye, but nothing could possibly have prepared her for the truth that hides behind his office walls.





	Beauty and the Boss

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Austerre - Tina](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Austerre+-+Tina).



> An AU from Tumblr that needed to be brought to life

    Natalie didn’t understand what her father was thinking. Then again, it was often difficult to understand the mind of an addict. When his actions didn't center around finding something to drink, she couldn't quite identify who was really in control; the father she had known as a child, or the man who had come to live with them after her mother left.

    Erik was, mostly, harmless. Consumed by self pity and his own sadness, he drank himself into an unconscious stupor whenever he could, only barely managing to keep his job. Where he failed, Natalie often found herself picking up his slack; cooking, cleaning, paying bills… Whatever was needed, to keep them off the streets.

    In his sober moments, which sometimes lasted for weeks, she almost saw what it was to have an ordinary life. These moments never lasted long, though. Sooner or later, Erik faltered, and then once more school was on hold, work ground to a halt, and her life centered on trying to stay afloat.

    It would have been easier, she often thought, to just leave him. To let go, and watch him sink beneath the waves of his own making. Yet, despite knowing that it was not her duty as a child to care for her _parent_ … she couldn't leave him. Not only because she loved him dearly, not only because she still held hope that he would get better and return to being the man she remembered, but because she couldn't bear the thought of becoming like her mother.

    Laura hadn’t cared, when she’d left, what would become of them. Her last words had made it quite clear that she hadn't cared about either of them for quite some time. Frankly, Natalie doubted that she ever had. In the wake of her final explosion, she had left her father, their home, and their lives… shattered.  

   He hadn't been the same, after that. If she was being truly honest, though; he had started to change before her mother’s back disappeared out the slamming front door. He had seemed torn between just letting her go - good riddance, farewell, don’t let the door hit you on the way out - and trying to keep her with him. With _them_. Preserving their small family, war torn though they often felt. It didn't really matter what he tried,though. She still left.  She still didn't care.

   Never, thought Natalie, would she be so cold. She may have looked like her mother, with the same red hair and dark, black-brown eyes, but she would _never_ be as heartless as Laura.

    Sometimes, she thought that Erik had stopped trying entirely, in the absence of her mother. Other times, she was left at a loss with all he tried to do on his own. Despite the fact that she was an adult, and though he had to know that she was caring for them both, he refused to actively reach out for her help. He accepted it only when he was without other options; like when he was passed out drunk, or promising he would just pay her back. Pretending, she thought, like he could handle things still.  

    Maybe he thought he really could, though. Maybe he was trying to prove something, not just to her, but to himself. Whatever the reason, though… _God,_ but she wished he wouldn't.  

    He hid things from her, when he could. Bills and broken things were the most common secrets, besides the stash of booze he consistently managed to get his hands on. She didn't even keep mouthwash in the house, anymore, but he had his ways.

     Her ‘Uncle’ Duncan helped as best he could. Erik confided in him in ways he wouldn't, or couldn't, with Natalie. Even from his best friend, though, he had secrets. Despite how close the other man was with her father, even he hadn't heard of Erik’s latest (and worst) plan before it was too late.

    She was at first alerted to the fact that something was wrong when she arrived home from her shift at the library and found the driveway empty. At first, she thought that perhaps the bank had finally come to repossess their rusted old car, but their nosy neighbour cleared that up quick enough.  It was such a surprise, said old Mrs.Lundy, to see Erik in a suit. She was glad that he was on his feet again, and going off to KaibaCorp, too. Such an important place! Natalie must have been so proud of him for getting a meeting there. Was he getting a job?

    She’d been too stunned then, to even answer. The fact that Mrs.Lundy was only fishing for information didn't even bother her as her heart sunk in her chest, and she left her there to come up with her own answers as she rushed into the house.

    Lundy hadn’t been wrong. Erik _was_ gone, and so were the keys for the Toyota. Worse, she realized, the _bills_ were gone too.

    He didn’t think she knew -- about the _loan_ , and the debt, the mess he had gotten himself into. There were a lot of things, though, that Erik was mistaken about, regarding the things his daughter did and did not know. For his pride, she feigned ignorance, but when the bills began to pile alongside the liquor he thought he hid, she could ignore it no longer.

    The _names_ on the papers were different than the one that had been on the _cheque_ her father had cashed, but the intent and ownership of debt were clear. They came with increasing frequency, and though she knew not what her father had done to receive it, she knew... it needed to be paid.

    It had weighed heavily upon both of them, the surely dropping axe of what was owed. She should have... _expected_ something, from him, to try and  fix it -- incapable though he was of helping even his smallest issues, Erik was nothing if not determined to tackle everything on his own. Yet, somehow, she had missed all of the signs, lost in the rhythm of his addiction and her duty to care for him. Now, thanks to her blindness, he was _gone_.

    Scrambling back outside, she took off down the street, calling for a taxi as she did. She met it on the way and all but fell inside, gasping out where she needed to be taken. The KaibaCorp tower was unmistakable on their skyline as the car sped steadily toward it, but still she prayed that he had somehow gotten lost. Maybe he wouldn't even be there. Maybe he’d gone somewhere else!

    The false optimism didn't give her much hope, and she felt paler than usual even with her supposedly reassuring thoughts. So, there wasn't much to crush when she got out of the car at the too tall building and spotted _theirs_ sitting at a nearby meter. As she spun around, she caught sight of him out of the corner of her eye, entering the tower. He was unmistakable, despite the fact that she could see naught but his scruffy head of black hair and the hunch of his broad shoulders. She didn’t need to see his blue eyes or the unkempt beard he kept to know her father’s lurching gait, or the bulk of his once strong body. He was here, and he was going inside.

     _Shit._

     Grasping in desperation, she all but lunged for him as she rushed through the sliding doors of the pristine tower; but the elevator doors were already closing around him and his rumpled suit, his bloodshot eyes focused on the floor as he clutched his temples, like he was trying to massage away a headache. Whether it was from drinking, or _missing_ a drink, she wasn’t sure. Goddess above, though, she prayed it was the latter. Even he couldn’t have come to this meeting _drunk_... would he?

    She was frantic as she punched the recall button on the elevator, watching in _horror_ as the metal cube rose within the clear glass elevator shaft, carrying him quickly and certainly out of her reach. She had to wonder, truly, what he planned to do -- they didn’t have the _money_ to pay these people back. They’d never had that much money in their lives, let alone _NOW_ , when he was out of work and she... well. It wasn’t as if she had time to further her schooling, when he could hardly be left alone for one five hour shift.

    The elevator certainly wasn’t coming back any time soon, and as her abuse of the button became too much for the system, she was admonished by a clear yet metallic voice.

    “ID badge, please.”

    It sounded far too merry, in such a situation, and she was tempted to kick it. She was aware, though, that it very likely wouldn't help. So, instead, she looked frantically around the room, searching for someone who could give her a badge.

    She was breathless when she made it to the front desk, clinging to it’s edge and pointing at the elevators.

     “That man, who just went up there - i-in the messed up suit - do you know where he's headed? He’s my dad, and I-”

     “He has a meeting with Mr.Kaiba,” Said the young woman behind the desk. “And you can wait for him there.”

    Her finely manicured hand waved toward a seating area that was dotted with other people, her attention quickly turning back toward her screen. In frustration, Natalie bit her lip, and glanced worriedly around.

    “I need to be with him. He needs an interpreter, you see, and-” It was the only excuse she could think of, to get one of the visitor badges that she could see people using to open the elevator doors.

    “If he requires your assistance, you will be called in. Until then, you may have a seat.”

    Again, she gestured to the waiting area, and again Natalie found herself filled with frustration. She didn't have TIME to wait. This woman didn’t _understand_. So… she’d have to take care of it herself.

    She thanked her quietly as she turned away, walking over to the waiting area as she had been told. It didn't take her long, though, to leave it once more, eyeing the crowd for any sign of an ID badge.

    She managed to find one hanging carelessly from someone’s hip, snatching it with quick fingers and moving through a thick knot of people. She heard a quiet cry of confusion as they realized their card was gone, but by then it was too late, and she didn't care.

     _Nothing_ was going to stand in the way of her finding her father. As the elevator doors closed around her, she promised herself that.

    She was certain that she knew where he was going, which was perhaps the only good part about her plan. Seto Kaiba’s name was on the pages that came to their home, demanding repayment, and the woman had even said that her father had an appointment with Mr. Kaiba. If this obnoxious building said anything about Kaiba, she thought, chances were that his office was on the very top floor. Keeping hold of her stolen key card, just in case, she pressed the highest number that she could find and braced herself against the wall.

    Though the elevator shot higher with a speed that deserved marvelling, it seemed still too slow. Impatiently, she paced in a tight circle, all but falling out of the doors when they finally opened. It occurred to her, then, that she had very little idea of where she was going. Thankfully, after some more frantic pacing, she spotted a sign that proclaimed the number of Mr. Kaiba’s office -- and like a shot, she was off again. Weaving around people with stacks of papers and coffees in their hands, she cared very little for their protests as she slipped through the halls, stopping only when she spotted the office door ahead of her. The words ‘Seto Kaiba’ were neatly set upon the front, readily visible from it’s firmly _closed_ position.

    There were a number of places that a closed door meant not to enter, and in the back of her mind, she _was_ aware that a professional business office was one of those places. She did not, however, care very much for protocol. Her father was in no state to be in there, making important decisions… He couldn’t be trusted. Not by himself.

    Pushing the door opened revealed at first a tall man, too thin to be her father, standing in front of the large window that filled the far wall of the room. His shoulders were broad and straight, and he dominated the room simply by standing there. His arms appeared to be tucked behind his back, and he was staring hard at her, though his expression was difficult to see. The light of the day shone brightly behind him, and almost seemed to shine _through_ him, ringing around him like a halo and highlighting his dark brown hair. It was an impressive position; yet still, _obnoxious_ , and ostentatious.

    In another situation, she perhaps could have found his face handsome. His sharp blue eyes were piercing and bright, but everything about him now seemed too severe. His gaze, the angles of his face, the points of his shoulders and even his chin, they seemed sharply accentuated by her own distaste. This was him - the man holding their livelihoods hostage.

    “N..Nat’lie?”

    The sound of her father’s slurring words brought her attention from their host, to him; in contrast to the well kempt man before him, he seemed more rumpled than ever. His suit, worn perhaps once and to a funeral, was wrinkled and ill-fitting. His eyes, bloodshot, were squinting more than usual in the light. He seemed pallid and almost green, swaying slightly on his feet - and, without asking, she knew he was drunk. He smelled of cologne, which was perhaps his only saving grace, but still; she knew.

    “This is a private meeting.” Came the crisp admonition from Mr.Kaiba, still standing like some sort of guardian statue in front of the window. To him, she shot a sharp glare worthy of his figure, lifting her chin. Dressed though she was in casual clothes, and moving to stand near her mess of a father, she would not be intimidated by _him_. She still had her pride, and she clung to it fiercely as she stopped at Erik’s side.

    “Does KaibaCorp make it a common practice to hold meetings with people who can’t legally enter into agreements?” Her retort was clear and confident, despite her considerable lack of the latter. She had no idea if being drunk meant that her father couldn’t enter into legally binding contracts, but she was willing to gamble that it did.

    “An agreement was already made.” The CEO shot back, standing stock still in front of the window. “The only matter to consider now is _payment_ , the terms of which were already set out for your…father?”

    “I c’n’t --” Erik tried to speak, but Kaiba didn’t give him the chance. He cut him off sharply, but in a voice that said more than enough about what he cared for what Erik could and couldn’t do.

    “You placed much as collateral when you made the deal. If you cannot make the payments as required, we will simply take what we are owed in other ways. You’re _wasting my time_ , Mr.Kovak. If this farce continues, I will have to charge you for _that_ , as well.”

    Even before he had finished speaking, Erik’s knees began to crumple. He leaned heavily on Natalie, one hand gripping her shoulder tightly. She bit back a gasp of pain, wrapping one arm around his waist and struggling to stand with his weight upon her.

    “Dad...what did you do?” Her question was pitched low, and meant for privacy. She was certain that the imposing man was still staring at them, and perhaps tapping his foot, but she cared not for his wasted time. Erik’s head slumped forward, and though he’d cleaned himself before leaving, she could smell the whiskey on his breath.  
    “Hous’...c’r… y’r mother... ” There was a sob in his voice that she hated to hear, her own shoulders shaking at the sound of it. “I thought… if she had _more_ …”    
    He didn’t need to finish the thought. Not here, and not this time. She knew what followed. The wish that he’d been able to provide what she wanted, to be what she needed… to get her to _stay_ . She had heard it more than once before, and it brought the same, foul taste of bile to her mouth each time. Hatred, as it turned out, was a bitter taste.    
   “M’sorr...M’sor --” His apologies were mumbled, growing further garbled as he began to pass out against her shoulder. Mercifully, it didn’t take long for him to grow limp, and silent; a deadweight, on her shoulders.

    “Are you quite finished?”  
     _Ah_ . There was that bitter taste again. Turning her dark eyes toward the shining form of the CEO, whose arms were now crossed _over_ his chest, she bit back a retort that likely wouldn’t improve their situation. Literally, biting down on her tongue, trapping it behind the thin line that her usually plump lips had turned into.  
    “I’m far too busy for this.” One dismissive hand waved toward Erik’s limp form, and Seto turned away, toward the window. At his back, she bared her teeth, building something - _anything_ \- to snap at him as he continued to speak.

    “If you can’t pay, you have nothing that I want. Now _go_ . I have an assistant to hire, and I don’t need _him_ in here while I’m drafting the posting -- “  
    “An assistant?” It wasn’t an insult, or a retort, as she’d been preparing. It wasn’t even a swear word, which was an increasingly tempting (yet completely pointless) option. Instead, her words came out as a question, as an idea formed in the back of her mind. If this _asshole_ was looking for an assistant…  
    “Yes. _An assistant_ . Are you unfamiliar with the concept, as you are with the concept of _leaving_ ? You know where the door is. You _barged_ through it, after all. If you can’t find it yourself, I’d be more than happy to have security find it for you --”

    “I can do it.” Her shoulder was falling asleep under her father’s weight, but she didn’t move, and didn’t buckle. She stood like a pillar in the room, planting her feet and telling herself that she _refused_ to move.  
    “I should hope you can find the door.” She ignored his sneering tone, and shook her head, catching his bright blue eyes with hers as he took a step away from the window.  
    “No. Be your assistant. I have experience. I’ve assisted the curator of a personal museum for three years. I’m responsible, I’m organized, and I am familiar with office technology. I--” He opened his mouth, as if to cut her off again, but she didn’t give him the chance. As best as she could, carrying her father and trying not to beg, she snapped back at him and held her ground. “I can do the job! And instead of a salary, just… just put it against the debt. I’ll work for you as long as it takes to pay it off. Think of the amount that you would save. I can’t imagine that whatever pittance my father borrowed amounts to anything but a drop in _your_ pockets -- it isn’t going to make or break you if you don’t get it back right away. What _will_ save you money and time, however, is not having to hire an employee that’s going to quit in a week because you’re --”

   She stopped herself there, short of actually openly insulting him. Sucking in a breath, and holding it, she watched and waited for his reaction. Surprisingly, though… he seemed to be considering it. Considering _her_.

    His eyes raked across her and she refused to flinch away, staring unblinkingly back at him in the silence that loomed within his office. His gaze flicked then from her, to her father, and back again to settle upon her own. The only sound that filled the air was the whirring and clicking of a computer, somewhere, until he spoke.

    “Since I have _high expectations_ for my employees.” He finished her sentence in an even voice, unfolding his arms and stepping around his desk. He moved toward her at a brisk pace, but stopped short of arm’s reach, and folded his arms once more. “Is, I’m sure, what you were going to say.”

   She didn’t correct him. Insulting him, at this venture, was probably a mistake.

    “If nothing else, you will fill the gap between competent assistants. _IF_ I give you a chance, you will have one shift to prove to me that this isn’t a waste of my time. Then, should you fail to do so, I will collect on the collateral that your father agreed upon in the original deal.”

    Unable to trust her voice not to shake or shatter, she nodded in agreement to his words. One shift wasn’t exactly _generous_ , as he seemed to think he was being, but… she could do it.  
   She had to.

    “Entertaining the idea that this will not fail, you would take up residence upon my property. There is a guest home on the premises for my assistants. I do not keep ordinary hours, and will need assistance at varying hours during the day, and night. Furthermore… I do not _trust_ you not to make arrangements to circumvent our deal and leave town with your… _father_.”

   She almost wanted to ask what resources he expected them to use to do so, but didn’t bother. Glancing down at her dad’s slumped head, though, she grimaced. Leaving him alone… it was a terrible idea.

    “I can’t --”  
    “You will, if you intend for me to agree to this _deal_ . And you will begin today.” He looked down at his wrist, tugging back his sleeve to check the expensive watch that wrapped around it. “In… an hour. I require--”  
   “An _hour_ ? My father -- “  
   “I _require_ ,” He said, shooting her a withering look. “My employees to dress and act in a professional manner. My schedule for the day will be e-mailed to you. Provide it to security, who will come to _collect_ your father. They will ensure that he gets home. Your hour is to be spent ensuring that you are prepared for this shift, to _prove_ that you are not wasting my time. Is that all _understood_ , Ms. Kovak?”

    Her eyes burned. Her shoulder hurt. She couldn’t feel her right hand, wedged under her father’s armpit. She wanted to tell him where he could take his terms, and exactly what he could do with them there….  
   But they couldn’t afford that. So she nodded, in acceptance, and offered one hand out toward him. He glanced down at it, but as if it were slick with slime, turned his nose away.

    “Your hour begins now.” She hadn’t seen him summon security, but as if he had pressed a button to invite them in, they opened the doors behind her. One of them relieved her of the weight that was her father, and the other gestured for her to follow them out of the room, and down the hall. Her gaze lingered on Seto Kaiba for a moment longer as she moved to follow them, hoping silently that this hadn’t been a ruse to simply get them out of the building. If it was… well.  
   There wasn’t much she could do to a multi-million dollar corporation… but, _oh_ , she could try.

    As she turned into the hallways and followed the guards, she watched carefully how they handled her father. He was loaded into an elevator separate from her with some amount of care, and she gave them an address to take him to. Not their own, where she could not trust him to be alone -- but Duncan’s, instead. Her father’s old friend didn’t need to be bothered by all of this, but she knew not who else to turn to. He would make sure that he was safe, and cleaned up, in her absence; and although she could not yet explain things to him, she was certain that he would understand, if only for right now. He would take care of him…

   Goddess willing, though, it wouldn’t be for long.

    She was brought to HR once he was gone, quietly filling out forms and signing contracts as they were handed to her. Robotically, she agreed to all of it; later, she would marvel at how quickly they had drafted an employment contract for her based on the strange terms of her agreement with Kaiba, but she hadn’t the energy to do so now.  

    From there, she was brought to what appeared to be an employee break room, outside of which a young woman stood. Her sleek brown hair was pulled up into a severe bun, but her eyes didn’t seem to judge her as she handed over an outfit that hung on a hanger. Looking more closely at her, Natalie realized that they were about the same size, and had to wonder - how much sway did Kaiba hold over the _rest_ of his employees, to convince one of them to loan a complete stranger an outfit for the day?  
   She mulled this over as she dressed, wiggling hard to get the sheaf skirt over her hips. It slipped over them, thankfully, and zipped tight against her considerable curves. Once she was dressed, she took a moment to observe herself in the mirror -- the clothing hardly fit perfectly, but it at least looked like it belonged in this building, unlike her own outfit. She folded her jeans as slowly as she could, _aware_ that she was wasting some of the hour that she’d been given to prepare, and yet unable to care. It was all so much, so quickly; he could afford five minutes for her to fold her clothes, when he hadn’t been able to afford fifteen for her to ensure her father was taken care of.

    She held onto that bitterness when she left the bathroom, her clothing tucked under her arms, and used it to fuel her refusal to give them up. Unwilling to argue with her, perhaps because _they_ didn’t care, she was given a bag to carry them in and directed to a locker in which she could store them for the rest of the day.

   From there, everything else… it was a whirlwind. She threw herself into it, though, lest she stop and consider all that had happened. She sorted his schedule, sifted through his correspondence, and forwarded only the most important tasks to him. She greeted clients and guided them to meetings, and watched as Seto lead them from a screen at the front of the room. She even went out of her way to organize his schedule for the next day, as well, in her desperation to meet his mysterious standards. Difficult though all of this was, she _needed_ his approval. Anything less.. It was a failure that neither she nor her father could afford. _Literally_.

    The day was a long one. By the time she was summoned into his office, the sun had long since set beneath the horizon. Instead of the sun, Kaiba was illuminated now by the lights of the city as he stood once more before the window, regarding her as he had her father, his arms behind his back.  
   She didn’t speak first, standing in front of him and summoning all of the patience left in her body to remain there -- silent, and expectant. The moment stretched on, her own private battle of wills, until finally - he nodded.

    “My day begins at seven.” He informed her, as if she hadn’t seen the meeting he had scheduled for seven fifteen in his calendar. “A car will bring you to your father’s home to collect any relevant belongings tonight, and will deliver you to my estate. It will return to fetch you in the morning. You will attend the desk outside of my office when you are not busy, and will remain on the estate when you are not here. This is a full time position. I keep hours that are not considered _ordinary_ to others, and may require your assistance at any point during the day, or night. I will not, however, require your assistance within my home. You have your quarters, and I have my own. Is that understood…?”

    “Of course, Sir.” Her acceptance was as meek as she could make it, which… wasn’t much. It seemed to be enough, though, as he nodded once more and turned away.

    “As agreed, in lieu of payment, your salary will be placed toward your father’s debt, which has now been placed in your care. You will, however, receive a small allowance for food, necessities, and emergencies. An information packet has been prepared, and you will find it in your company inbox. Now, that is everything. Unless, of course, you have a presumably _inane_ question for me…?”

    “No, sir.” She replied, through clenched teeth and curled fists - things he either didn't notice, or didn't care about.

    “Then I would leave now, and get what rest you can. I do not tolerate tardiness. 

   As tempting as it was to remain, and waste time purely to be contrary to his commands, she could not help but turn and leave. She was… exhausted, after the events of the day. Seven am came early, and she still needed to go back home… perhaps, for the last time in a long while.

    She found the company car easily, parked out front and waiting for her. Feeling mindless, she slipped into the back seat with a quiet request of where she needed to go to the driver. He nodded in response, but beyond that, they shared no conversation as he brought her away from the sparkling KaibaCorp tower, away from the business offices that surrounded it and the upscale boutiques of the area of the city that Kaiba deigned to place himself around. Tidy streets faded into suburban sprawl, and soon even that faded away to abandoned businesses, shuttered windows, and small, ramshackle houses.

She said nothing as she exited the car, stepping over the broken tile in their walkway and making her way up to the front door of their house. It creaked as it opened, as if apologizing for what lay inside.  The house was, expectedly, empty. The bottle of whiskey that her father had obviously downed before leaving lay abandoned on the coffee table, surrounded by used dishes and crumpled kleenex.

It was weird, not seeing him there on the couch, in the squished indent he’d formed on the cushions from sitting there so long. She turned away from it and collected the garbage that was lying around, throwing it into the bin on her way up the stairs. They creaked in their familiar way beneath her feet, the fourth and seventh step, as she made her way to the small purple room that she still called hers.

    Rows of books had long since replaced the piles of stuffed animals that had once lined her shelves, though one plush unicorn still sat atop the highest shelf, surveying the room below. It was tidy in comparison to the rest of the house, although, compared to the state Erik often left things in, some garbage dumps were tidy. Still, she didn't have to sift through piles on the floor to find her clothes, and she knew exactly where her shoes and suitcase were stored.

     She filled them slowly and methodically, choosing the nicest of her outfits and taking little that wasn't suited to a business environment.  From what Kaiba had said, there wouldn't be much time for LIFE, outside his schedule… so, really, what was the point? Rueful, she stuffed the tidily folded garments into the bag, slowly filling it with the things she thought needed. Shoes, toiletries, her cell phone charger… She didn't know what she would need, but she prepared as best she could.

    When the bag was nearly full, she paused, glancing around at the books in her room. They were heavy, and not a necessity… but her new boss (read: warden) had said nothing at all about packing light. From the shelves, she took her favorites, packing them next to the leather bound journal she had already tucked inside.

    The house was strangely silent when she’d finished packing, each footfall echoing as she walked back down the stairs. She had no time for retrospective melancholy, though. Ignoring her own heartache over leaving, she made her way to the kitchen to leave a note, taped to the fridge. Her hands shook as she wrote it, but it barely showed in her looping script as she insisted that her father not try anything to stop what she’d arranged. She tried to sugar coat the entire thing, but… well. Through her own bitterness, it was a struggle.

    Her fingers pressed the tape to the fridge door over and over until it stuck clear against it, and even until it threatened to rub through. At that point, she forced her hand away, and turned toward the door.

    It was time to go. 

    She locked the door as she left and slipped back into the car, handing her suitcase off to the driver that waited patiently outside. She could see the curtains in her neighbour’s window shifting, and knew that Mrs.Lundy was snooping. Petty to a fault, she waved one hand towards them as if in greeting and watched them fall still as the woman pulled away, in time to miss as the car pulled out and into the street.

    As with the drive to her home, the drive from it was silent. She knew that she needed to call Duncan, to make sure her father was okay, and to see what could be done for him while she was gone. It was only fair, after all, to fully explain herself to him, and to thank him for helping on such a short notice. Yet, as she heaved a sigh and laid her head against the window, she found herself exhausted by the very idea. 

    She woke to the sound of a metal gate opening, rising with a jolt from where she’d slumped against the back of the seat. Hair askew, and mouth dry, she was bewildered and confused. It took a moment to identify where she was - or rather, where she had been brought. She’d never seen the place before in her life, but the towering marble statues of dragons at the gates gave her something of a hint. 

    The Kaiba mansion was as obnoxiously overbearing as the man was himself, decorated with a mixture of high class decor and duel monster themed topiaries. She could only imagine what the inside looked like as the car carried her past, moving at a casual pace down the cobbled driveway. It was well lit, at least, though the shadows beyond the trees that lined either side made her clutch her purse a little tighter. There was something about this place that made her nervous… probably, though, that had something to do with its abominable master. 

    Soon enough, the car came to a stop at the front of a small building, similar in design to the main mansion but hardly of the same scope. She couldn't see much of the grounds around it, but did note that the door knocker was shaped like - again - a dragon. Taking her bags from the driver, she turned toward the building, and stopped as the guard waiting there stepped forward with keys in his hand. 

    He was surprisingly well lit under the pooling lights of what she assumed was the guest house, a comforting fact for her now that she was out of the car. In such an unfamiliar place, she couldn’t help but feel _uneasy_. She didn’t know any of these people, nor what they were capable of -- standing in a poorly lit place would have made that a thousand times worse. Thankfully, she could see his warm brown eyes quite well as he stepped toward her, jangling the keys once in his fingers.

    He looked a bit like he had missed shaving today, and perhaps the day before, a thin layer of ashy stubble covering his sun browned cheeks and chin. His dirty blonde hair was combed, though, cropped short and tidy around the pink tips of his ears. They stuck out slightly, she noticed, but it didn’t make him look goofy or foolish. He was professional and almost _sturdy_ as he stopped before her, inclining his head in a low bow.

    “You must be Ms. Kovak. My name is Gray. I’ll be one of your security detail while you stay with us. Let me get that door for you.”

    He didn't wait for her agreement as he did just that, opening the front door with his keys and turning to take her bags. Although it was a kind gesture, and probably expected of him by his - no, _their_ \- cranky boss, she found herself pulling away from him and holding tight her bags.

    “Thank you, but...I’ve got this.”

   To his credit, he did pause at the sound of her refusal, seeming puzzled at the idea that she would want to carry them herself when an offer was made to lighten the load. She didn't stop to explain it to him, though, stepping past him and into the guest home. He hovered behind her as she set her bags down in the entryway, and offered up the keys as she held her hand out for them.

    “I’ll be right outside if you need anything.” He said, stepping away as she nodded absently.  She hardly noticed as the door clicked shut behind her, but did take a moment to make sure it was locked before she crumpled to the floor, exhausted, and finally let herself cry.


End file.
